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authorRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 05:31:42 -0700
committerRoger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>2025-10-15 05:31:42 -0700
commit5dd24b16a8a746b6b50f13351a4c892f098a7e08 (patch)
treee0f740283bf44bc1ab8b3620717c95d647dcbbeb /old
initial commit of ebook 8525HEADmain
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+<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?>
+
+<!DOCTYPE html
+ PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" >
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+ <head>
+ <title>
+ Eve's Diary, By Mark Twain
+ </title>
+ <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+ <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+ body {background:#faebd7; margin:5%; text-align:justify}
+ P {
+ text-indent: 2em;
+ margin-top: .25em;
+ margin-bottom: .25em; }
+ H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; }
+ HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; }
+ blockquote {font-size: 95% }
+ div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+ .figleft {float: left;}
+ .figright {float: right;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;}
+ .boxnote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin: 1em 10%; }
+ CENTER { padding: 10px;}
+
+</style>
+ </head>
+ <body>
+ <h2>
+ EVE'S DIARY, By Mark Twain
+ </h2>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+Project Gutenberg's Eve's Diary, Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
+
+
+Title: Eve's Diary, Complete
+
+Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+Release Date: June 14, 2004 [EBook #8525]
+[Last updated: October 18, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EVE'S DIARY, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger and Cindy Rosenthal
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+ <div class="boxnote">
+ <i> <a
+ href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/8525/old/orig8525-h/8525-h.htm"> LINK
+ TO THE ORIGINAL HTML FILE:This Ebook Has Been Reformatted For Better
+ Appearance In Mobile Viewers Such As Kindles And Others. The Original
+ Format, Which The Editor Believes Has A More Attractive Appearance For
+ Laptops And Other Computers, May Be Viewed By Clicking On This Box.</a>
+ </i>
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h1>
+ EVE'S DIARY
+ </h1>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ By Mark Twain
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h3>
+ Illustrated by Lester Ralph
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="cover.jpg (111K)" src="images/cover.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="front.jpg (83K)" src="images/front.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="title.jpg (43K)" src="images/title.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h1>
+ Eve's Diary
+ </h1>
+ <h3>
+ Translated from the Original
+ </h3>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="003.jpg (70K)" src="images/003.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SATURDAY.&mdash;I am almost a whole day old, now. I arrived yesterday.
+ That is as it seems to me. And it must be so, for if there was a
+ day-before-yesterday I was not there when it happened, or I should
+ remember it. It could be, of course, that it did happen, and that I was
+ not noticing. Very well; I will be very watchful now, and if any
+ day-before-yesterdays happen I will make a note of it. It will be best to
+ start right and not let the record get confused, for some instinct tells
+ me that these details are going to be important to the historian some day.
+ For I feel like an experiment, I feel exactly like an experiment; it would
+ be impossible for a person to feel more like an experiment than I do, and
+ so I am coming to feel convinced that that is what I AM&mdash;an
+ experiment; just an experiment, and nothing more.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="005.jpg (62K)" src="images/005.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then if I am an experiment, am I the whole of it? No, I think not; I think
+ the rest of it is part of it. I am the main part of it, but I think the
+ rest of it has its share in the matter. Is my position assured, or do I
+ have to watch it and take care of it? The latter, perhaps. Some instinct
+ tells me that eternal vigilance is the price of supremacy. [That is a good
+ phrase, I think, for one so young.]
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="007.jpg (73K)" src="images/007.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Everything looks better today than it did yesterday. In the rush of
+ finishing up yesterday, the mountains were left in a ragged condition, and
+ some of the plains were so cluttered with rubbish and remnants that the
+ aspects were quite distressing. Noble and beautiful works of art should
+ not be subjected to haste; and this majestic new world is indeed a most
+ noble and beautiful work. And certainly marvelously near to being perfect,
+ notwithstanding the shortness of the time. There are too many stars in
+ some places and not enough in others, but that can be remedied presently,
+ no doubt. The moon got loose last night, and slid down and fell out of the
+ scheme&mdash;a very great loss; it breaks my heart to think of it. There
+ isn't another thing among the ornaments and decorations that is comparable
+ to it for beauty and finish. It should have been fastened better. If we
+ can only get it back again&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="009.jpg (61K)" src="images/009.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But of course there is no telling where it went to. And besides, whoever
+ gets it will hide it; I know it because I would do it myself. I believe I
+ can be honest in all other matters, but I already begin to realize that
+ the core and center of my nature is love of the beautiful, a passion for
+ the beautiful, and that it would not be safe to trust me with a moon that
+ belonged to another person and that person didn't know I had it. I could
+ give up a moon that I found in the daytime, because I should be afraid
+ some one was looking; but if I found it in the dark, I am sure I should
+ find some kind of an excuse for not saying anything about it. For I do
+ love moons, they are so pretty and so romantic. I wish we had five or six;
+ I would never go to bed; I should never get tired lying on the moss-bank
+ and looking up at them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="011.jpg (93K)" src="images/011.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Stars are good, too. I wish I could get some to put in my hair. But I
+ suppose I never can. You would be surprised to find how far off they are,
+ for they do not look it. When they first showed, last night, I tried to
+ knock some down with a pole, but it didn't reach, which astonished me;
+ then I tried clods till I was all tired out, but I never got one. It was
+ because I am left-handed and cannot throw good. Even when I aimed at the
+ one I wasn't after I couldn't hit the other one, though I did make some
+ close shots, for I saw the black blot of the clod sail right into the
+ midst of the golden clusters forty or fifty times, just barely missing
+ them, and if I could have held out a little longer maybe I could have got
+ one.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="013.jpg (83K)" src="images/013.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ So I cried a little, which was natural, I suppose, for one of my age, and
+ after I was rested I got a basket and started for a place on the extreme
+ rim of the circle, where the stars were close to the ground and I could
+ get them with my hands, which would be better, anyway, because I could
+ gather them tenderly then, and not break them. But it was farther than I
+ thought, and at last I had to give it up; I was so tired I couldn't drag
+ my feet another step; and besides, they were sore and hurt me very much.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I couldn't get back home; it was too far and turning cold; but I found
+ some tigers and nestled in among them and was most adorably comfortable,
+ and their breath was sweet and pleasant, because they live on
+ strawberries. I had never seen a tiger before, but I knew them in a minute
+ by the stripes. If I could have one of those skins, it would make a lovely
+ gown.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="015.jpg (86K)" src="images/015.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Today I am getting better ideas about distances. I was so eager to get
+ hold of every pretty thing that I giddily grabbed for it, sometimes when
+ it was too far off, and sometimes when it was but six inches away but
+ seemed a foot&mdash;alas, with thorns between! I learned a lesson; also I
+ made an axiom, all out of my own head&mdash;my very first one; THE
+ SCRATCHED EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE THORN. I think it is a very good one for
+ one so young.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I followed the other Experiment around, yesterday afternoon, at a
+ distance, to see what it might be for, if I could. But I was not able to
+ make [it] out. I think it is a man. I had never seen a man, but it looked
+ like one, and I feel sure that that is what it is. I realize that I feel
+ more curiosity about it than about any of the other reptiles. If it is a
+ reptile, and I suppose it is; for it has frowzy hair and blue eyes, and
+ looks like a reptile. It has no hips; it tapers like a carrot; when it
+ stands, it spreads itself apart like a derrick; so I think it is a
+ reptile, though it may be architecture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="017.jpg (76K)" src="images/017.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I was afraid of it at first, and started to run every time it turned
+ around, for I thought it was going to chase me; but by and by I found it
+ was only trying to get away, so after that I was not timid any more, but
+ tracked it along, several hours, about twenty yards behind, which made it
+ nervous and unhappy. At last it was a good deal worried, and climbed a
+ tree. I waited a good while, then gave it up and went home.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="019.jpg (79K)" src="images/019.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Today the same thing over. I've got it up the tree again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SUNDAY.&mdash;It is up there yet. Resting, apparently. But that is a
+ subterfuge: Sunday isn't the day of rest; Saturday is appointed for that.
+ It looks to me like a creature that is more interested in resting than in
+ anything else. It would tire me to rest so much. It tires me just to sit
+ around and watch the tree. I do wonder what it is for; I never see it do
+ anything.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="021.jpg (81K)" src="images/021.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They returned the moon last night, and I was SO happy! I think it is very
+ honest of them. It slid down and fell off again, but I was not distressed;
+ there is no need to worry when one has that kind of neighbors; they will
+ fetch it back. I wish I could do something to show my appreciation. I
+ would like to send them some stars, for we have more than we can use. I
+ mean I, not we, for I can see that the reptile cares nothing for such
+ things.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It has low tastes, and is not kind. When I went there yesterday evening in
+ the gloaming it had crept down and was trying to catch the little speckled
+ fishes that play in the pool, and I had to clod it to make it go up the
+ tree again and let them alone. I wonder if THAT is what it is for? Hasn't
+ it any heart? Hasn't it any compassion for those little creature? Can it
+ be that it was designed and manufactured for such ungentle work? It has
+ the look of it. One of the clods took it back of the ear, and it used
+ language. It gave me a thrill, for it was the first time I had ever heard
+ speech, except my own. I did not understand the words, but they seemed
+ expressive.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="023.jpg (77K)" src="images/023.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When I found it could talk I felt a new interest in it, for I love to
+ talk; I talk, all day, and in my sleep, too, and I am very interesting,
+ but if I had another to talk to I could be twice as interesting, and would
+ never stop, if desired.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="025.jpg (70K)" src="images/025.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If this reptile is a man, it isn't an IT, is it? That wouldn't be
+ grammatical, would it? I think it would be HE. I think so. In that case
+ one would parse it thus: nominative, HE; dative, HIM; possessive, HIS'N.
+ Well, I will consider it a man and call it he until it turns out to be
+ something else. This will be handier than having so many uncertainties.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ NEXT WEEK SUNDAY.&mdash;All the week I tagged around after him and tried
+ to get acquainted. I had to do the talking, because he was shy, but I
+ didn't mind it. He seemed pleased to have me around, and I used the
+ sociable "we" a good deal, because it seemed to flatter him to be
+ included.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="027.jpg (96K)" src="images/027.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ WEDNESDAY.&mdash;We are getting along very well indeed, now, and getting
+ better and better acquainted. He does not try to avoid me any more, which
+ is a good sign, and shows that he likes to have me with him. That pleases
+ me, and I study to be useful to him in every way I can, so as to increase
+ his regard.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="029.jpg (75K)" src="images/029.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ During the last day or two I have taken all the work of naming things off
+ his hands, and this has been a great relief to him, for he has no gift in
+ that line, and is evidently very grateful. He can't think of a rational
+ name to save him, but I do not let him see that I am aware of his defect.
+ Whenever a new creature comes along I name it before he has time to expose
+ himself by an awkward silence. In this way I have saved him many
+ embarrassments. I have no defect like this. The minute I set eyes on an
+ animal I know what it is. I don't have to reflect a moment; the right name
+ comes out instantly, just as if it were an inspiration, as no doubt it is,
+ for I am sure it wasn't in me half a minute before. I seem to know just by
+ the shape of the creature and the way it acts what animal it is.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="031.jpg (62K)" src="images/031.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When the dodo came along he thought it was a wildcat&mdash;I saw it in his
+ eye. But I saved him. And I was careful not to do it in a way that could
+ hurt his pride. I just spoke up in a quite natural way of pleasing
+ surprise, and not as if I was dreaming of conveying information, and said,
+ "Well, I do declare, if there isn't the dodo!" I explained&mdash;without
+ seeming to be explaining&mdash;how I know it for a dodo, and although I
+ thought maybe he was a little piqued that I knew the creature when he
+ didn't, it was quite evident that he admired me. That was very agreeable,
+ and I thought of it more than once with gratification before I slept. How
+ little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="033.jpg (76K)" src="images/033.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ THURSDAY.&mdash;my first sorrow. Yesterday he avoided me and seemed to
+ wish I would not talk to him. I could not believe it, and thought there
+ was some mistake, for I loved to be with him, and loved to hear him talk,
+ and so how could it be that he could feel unkind toward me when I had not
+ done anything? But at last it seemed true, so I went away and sat lonely
+ in the place where I first saw him the morning that we were made and I did
+ not know what he was and was indifferent about him; but now it was a
+ mournful place, and every little thing spoke of him, and my heart was very
+ sore. I did not know why very clearly, for it was a new feeling; I had not
+ experienced it before, and it was all a mystery, and I could not make it
+ out.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="035.jpg (90K)" src="images/035.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But when night came I could not bear the lonesomeness, and went to the new
+ shelter which he has built, to ask him what I had done that was wrong and
+ how I could mend it and get back his kindness again; but he put me out in
+ the rain, and it was my first sorrow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="037.jpg (82K)" src="images/037.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ SUNDAY.&mdash;It is pleasant again, now, and I am happy; but those were
+ heavy days; I do not think of them when I can help it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="039.jpg (83K)" src="images/039.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I tried to get him some of those apples, but I cannot learn to throw
+ straight. I failed, but I think the good intention pleased him. They are
+ forbidden, and he says I shall come to harm; but so I come to harm through
+ pleasing him, why shall I care for that harm?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ MONDAY.&mdash;This morning I told him my name, hoping it would interest
+ him. But he did not care for it. It is strange. If he should tell me his
+ name, I would care. I think it would be pleasanter in my ears than any
+ other sound.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="041.jpg (81K)" src="images/041.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He talks very little. Perhaps it is because he is not bright, and is
+ sensitive about it and wishes to conceal it. It is such a pity that he
+ should feel so, for brightness is nothing; it is in the heart that the
+ values lie. I wish I could make him understand that a loving good heart is
+ riches, and riches enough, and that without it intellect is poverty.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Although he talks so little, he has quite a considerable vocabulary. This
+ morning he used a surprisingly good word. He evidently recognized,
+ himself, that it was a good one, for he worked in in twice afterward,
+ casually. It was good casual art, still it showed that he possesses a
+ certain quality of perception. Without a doubt that seed can be made to
+ grow, if cultivated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="043.jpg (90K)" src="images/043.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Where did he get that word? I do not think I have ever used it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ No, he took no interest in my name. I tried to hide my disappointment, but
+ I suppose I did not succeed. I went away and sat on the moss-bank with my
+ feet in the water. It is where I go when I hunger for companionship, some
+ one to look at, some one to talk to. It is not enough&mdash;that lovely
+ white body painted there in the pool&mdash;but it is something, and
+ something is better than utter loneliness. It talks when I talk; it is sad
+ when I am sad; it comforts me with its sympathy; it says, "Do not be
+ downhearted, you poor friendless girl; I will be your friend." It IS a
+ good friend to me, and my only one; it is my sister.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="045.jpg (89K)" src="images/045.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ That first time that she forsook me! ah, I shall never forget that&mdash;never,
+ never. My heart was lead in my body! I said, "She was all I had, and now
+ she is gone!" In my despair I said, "Break, my heart; I cannot bear my
+ life any more!" and hid my face in my hands, and there was no solace for
+ me. And when I took them away, after a little, there she was again, white
+ and shining and beautiful, and I sprang into her arms!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="047.jpg (77K)" src="images/047.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ That was perfect happiness; I had known happiness before, but it was not
+ like this, which was ecstasy. I never doubted her afterward. Sometimes she
+ stayed away&mdash;maybe an hour, maybe almost the whole day, but I waited
+ and did not doubt; I said, "She is busy, or she is gone on a journey, but
+ she will come." And it was so: she always did. At night she would not come
+ if it was dark, for she was a timid little thing; but if there was a moon
+ she would come. I am not afraid of the dark, but she is younger than I am;
+ she was born after I was. Many and many are the visits I have paid her;
+ she is my comfort and my refuge when my life is hard&mdash;and it is
+ mainly that.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ TUESDAY.&mdash;All the morning I was at work improving the estate; and I
+ purposely kept away from him in the hope that he would get lonely and
+ come. But he did not.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At noon I stopped for the day and took my recreation by flitting all about
+ with the bees and the butterflies and reveling in the flowers, those
+ beautiful creatures that catch the smile of God out of the sky and
+ preserve it! I gathered them, and made them into wreaths and garlands and
+ clothed myself in them while I ate my luncheon&mdash;apples, of course;
+ then I sat in the shade and wished and waited. But he did not come.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="049.jpg (92K)" src="images/049.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But no matter. Nothing would have come of it, for he does not care for
+ flowers. He called them rubbish, and cannot tell one from another, and
+ thinks it is superior to feel like that. He does not care for me, he does
+ not care for flowers, he does not care for the painted sky at eventide&mdash;is
+ there anything he does care for, except building shacks to coop himself up
+ in from the good clean rain, and thumping the melons, and sampling the
+ grapes, and fingering the fruit on the trees, to see how those properties
+ are coming along?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="051.jpg (86K)" src="images/051.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I laid a dry stick on the ground and tried to bore a hole in it with
+ another one, in order to carry out a scheme that I had, and soon I got an
+ awful fright. A thin, transparent bluish film rose out of the hole, and I
+ dropped everything and ran! I thought it was a spirit, and I WAS so
+ frightened! But I looked back, and it was not coming; so I leaned against
+ a rock and rested and panted, and let my limbs go on trembling until they
+ got steady again; then I crept warily back, alert, watching, and ready to
+ fly if there was occasion; and when I was come near, I parted the branches
+ of a rose-bush and peeped through&mdash;wishing the man was about, I was
+ looking so cunning and pretty&mdash;but the sprite was gone. I went there,
+ and there was a pinch of delicate pink dust in the hole. I put my finger
+ in, to feel it, and said OUCH! and took it out again. It was a cruel pain.
+ I put my finger in my mouth; and by standing first on one foot and then
+ the other, and grunting, I presently eased my misery; then I was full of
+ interest, and began to examine.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="053.jpg (75K)" src="images/053.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I was curious to know what the pink dust was. Suddenly the name of it
+ occurred to me, though I had never heard of it before. It was FIRE! I was
+ as certain of it as a person could be of anything in the world. So without
+ hesitation I named it that&mdash;fire.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="055.jpg (77K)" src="images/055.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I had created something that didn't exist before; I had added a new thing
+ to the world's uncountable properties; I realized this, and was proud of
+ my achievement, and was going to run and find him and tell him about it,
+ thinking to raise myself in his esteem&mdash;but I reflected, and did not
+ do it. No&mdash;he would not care for it. He would ask what it was good
+ for, and what could I answer? for if it was not GOOD for something, but
+ only beautiful, merely beautiful&mdash;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="057.jpg (72K)" src="images/057.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ So I sighed, and did not go. For it wasn't good for anything; it could not
+ build a shack, it could not improve melons, it could not hurry a fruit
+ crop; it was useless, it was a foolishness and a vanity; he would despise
+ it and say cutting words. But to me it was not despicable; I said, "Oh,
+ you fire, I love you, you dainty pink creature, for you are BEAUTIFUL&mdash;and
+ that is enough!" and was going to gather it to my breast. But refrained.
+ Then I made another maxim out of my head, though it was so nearly like the
+ first one that I was afraid it was only a plagiarism: "THE BURNT
+ EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE FIRE."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I wrought again; and when I had made a good deal of fire-dust I emptied it
+ into a handful of dry brown grass, intending to carry it home and keep it
+ always and play with it; but the wind struck it and it sprayed up and spat
+ out at me fiercely, and I dropped it and ran. When I looked back the blue
+ spirit was towering up and stretching and rolling away like a cloud, and
+ instantly I thought of the name of it&mdash;SMOKE!&mdash;though, upon my
+ word, I had never heard of smoke before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="059.jpg (82K)" src="images/059.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Soon brilliant yellow and red flares shot up through the smoke, and I
+ named them in an instant&mdash;FLAMES&mdash;and I was right, too, though
+ these were the very first flames that had ever been in the world. They
+ climbed the trees, then flashed splendidly in and out of the vast and
+ increasing volume of tumbling smoke, and I had to clap my hands and laugh
+ and dance in my rapture, it was so new and strange and so wonderful and so
+ beautiful!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="061.jpg (79K)" src="images/061.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He came running, and stopped and gazed, and said not a word for many
+ minutes. Then he asked what it was. Ah, it was too bad that he should ask
+ such a direct question. I had to answer it, of course, and I did. I said
+ it was fire. If it annoyed him that I should know and he must ask; that
+ was not my fault; I had no desire to annoy him. After a pause he asked:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "How did it come?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Another direct question, and it also had to have a direct answer.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "I made it."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The fire was traveling farther and farther off. He went to the edge of the
+ burned place and stood looking down, and said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "What are these?"
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ "Fire-coals."
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He picked up one to examine it, but changed his mind and put it down
+ again. Then he went away. NOTHING interests him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="063.jpg (72K)" src="images/063.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But I was interested. There were ashes, gray and soft and delicate and
+ pretty&mdash;I knew what they were at once. And the embers; I knew the
+ embers, too. I found my apples, and raked them out, and was glad; for I am
+ very young and my appetite is active. But I was disappointed; they were
+ all burst open and spoiled. Spoiled apparently; but it was not so; they
+ were better than raw ones. Fire is beautiful; some day it will be useful,
+ I think.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="065.jpg (82K)" src="images/065.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ FRIDAY.&mdash;I saw him again, for a moment, last Monday at nightfall, but
+ only for a moment. I was hoping he would praise me for trying to improve
+ the estate, for I had meant well and had worked hard. But he was not
+ pleased, and turned away and left me. He was also displeased on another
+ account: I tried once more to persuade him to stop going over the Falls.
+ That was because the fire had revealed to me a new passion&mdash;quite
+ new, and distinctly different from love, grief, and those others which I
+ had already discovered&mdash;FEAR. And it is horrible!&mdash;I wish I had
+ never discovered it; it gives me dark moments, it spoils my happiness, it
+ makes me shiver and tremble and shudder. But I could not persuade him, for
+ he has not discovered fear yet, and so he could not understand me.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="067.jpg (94K)" src="images/067.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ <i> Extract from Adam's Diary</i>
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="069.jpg (65K)" src="images/069.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i> Perhaps I ought to remember that she is very young, a mere girl and
+ make allowances. She is all interest, eagerness, vivacity, the world is to
+ her a charm, a wonder, a mystery, a joy; she can't speak for delight when
+ she finds a new flower, she must pet it and caress it and smell it and
+ talk to it, and pour out endearing names upon it. And she is color-mad:
+ brown rocks, yellow sand, gray moss, green foliage, blue sky; the pearl of
+ the dawn, the purple shadows on the mountains, the golden islands floating
+ in crimson seas at sunset, the pallid moon sailing through the shredded
+ cloud-rack, the star-jewels glittering in the wastes of space&mdash;none
+ of them is of any practical value, so far as I can see, but because they
+ have color and majesty, that is enough for her, and she loses her mind
+ over them. If she could quiet down and keep still a couple minutes at a
+ time, it would be a reposeful spectacle. In that case I think I could
+ enjoy looking at her; indeed I am sure I could, for I am coming to realize
+ that she is a quite remarkably comely creature&mdash;lithe, slender, trim,
+ rounded, shapely, nimble, graceful; and once when she was standing
+ marble-white and sun-drenched on a boulder, with her young head tilted
+ back and her hand shading her eyes, watching the flight of a bird in the
+ sky, I recognized that she was beautiful.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="071.jpg (74K)" src="images/071.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>MONDAY NOON.&mdash;If there is anything on the planet that she is not
+ interested in it is not in my list. There are animals that I am
+ indifferent to, but it is not so with her. She has no discrimination, she
+ takes to all of them, she thinks they are all treasures, every new one is
+ welcome.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="073.jpg (69K)" src="images/073.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>When the mighty brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regarded it
+ as an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good sample of
+ the lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things. She wanted to
+ domesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of the homestead and move
+ out. She believed it could be tamed by kind treatment and would be a good
+ pet; I said a pet twenty-one feet high and eighty-four feet long would be
+ no proper thing to have about the place, because, even with the best
+ intentions and without meaning any harm, it could sit down on the house
+ and mash it, for any one could see by the look of its eye that it was
+ absent-minded.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>Still, her heart was set upon having that monster, and she couldn't
+ give it up. She thought we could start a dairy with it, and wanted me to
+ help milk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky. The sex wasn't right, and
+ we hadn't any ladder anyway. Then she wanted to ride it, and look at the
+ scenery. Thirty or forty feet of its tail was lying on the ground, like a
+ fallen tree, and she thought she could climb it, but she was mistaken;
+ when she got to the steep place it was too slick and down she came, and
+ would have hurt herself but for me.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="075.jpg (72K)" src="images/075.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <i>Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but
+ demonstration; untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have
+ them. It is the right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the
+ influence of it; if I were with her more I think I should take it up
+ myself. Well, she had one theory remaining about this colossus: she
+ thought that if we could tame it and make him friendly we could stand in
+ the river and use him for a bridge. It turned out that he was already
+ plenty tame enough&mdash;at least as far as she was concerned&mdash;so she
+ tried her theory, but it failed: every time she got him properly placed in
+ the river and went ashore to cross over him, he came out and followed her
+ around like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do that.</i>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="077.jpg (70K)" src="images/077.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Tuesday&mdash;Wednesday&mdash;Thursday&mdash;and today: all without seeing
+ him. It is a long time to be alone; still, it is better to be alone than
+ unwelcome.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ FRIDAY&mdash;I HAD to have company&mdash;I was made for it, I think&mdash;so
+ I made friends with the animals. They are just charming, and they have the
+ kindest disposition and the politest ways; they never look sour, they
+ never let you feel that you are intruding, they smile at you and wag their
+ tail, if they've got one, and they are always ready for a romp or an
+ excursion or anything you want to propose. I think they are perfect
+ gentlemen. All these days we have had such good times, and it hasn't been
+ lonesome for me, ever.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="079.jpg (85K)" src="images/079.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Lonesome! No, I should say not. Why, there's always a swarm of them around&mdash;sometimes
+ as much as four or five acres&mdash;you can't count them; and when you
+ stand on a rock in the midst and look out over the furry expanse it is so
+ mottled and splashed and gay with color and frisking sheen and sun-flash,
+ and so rippled with stripes, that you might think it was a lake, only you
+ know it isn't; and there's storms of sociable birds, and hurricanes of
+ whirring wings; and when the sun strikes all that feathery commotion, you
+ have a blazing up of all the colors you can think of, enough to put your
+ eyes out.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="081.jpg (80K)" src="images/081.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ We have made long excursions, and I have seen a great deal of the world;
+ almost all of it, I think; and so I am the first traveler, and the only
+ one. When we are on the march, it is an imposing sight&mdash;there's
+ nothing like it anywhere. For comfort I ride a tiger or a leopard, because
+ it is soft and has a round back that fits me, and because they are such
+ pretty animals; but for long distance or for scenery I ride the elephant.
+ He hoists me up with his trunk, but I can get off myself; when we are
+ ready to camp, he sits and I slide down the back way.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="083.jpg (89K)" src="images/083.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The birds and animals are all friendly to each other, and there are no
+ disputes about anything. They all talk, and they all talk to me, but it
+ must be a foreign language, for I cannot make out a word they say; yet
+ they often understand me when I talk back, particularly the dog and the
+ elephant. It makes me ashamed. It shows that they are brighter than I am,
+ for I want to be the principal Experiment myself&mdash;and I intend to be,
+ too.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I have learned a number of things, and am educated, now, but I wasn't at
+ first. I was ignorant at first. At first it used to vex me because, with
+ all my watching, I was never smart enough to be around when the water was
+ running uphill; but now I do not mind it. I have experimented and
+ experimented until now I know it never does run uphill, except in the
+ dark. I know it does in the dark, because the pool never goes dry, which
+ it would, of course, if the water didn't come back in the night. It is
+ best to prove things by actual experiment; then you KNOW; whereas if you
+ depend on guessing and supposing and conjecturing, you never get educated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="085.jpg (95K)" src="images/085.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Some things you CAN'T find out; but you will never know you can't by
+ guessing and supposing: no, you have to be patient and go on experimenting
+ until you find out that you can't find out. And it is delightful to have
+ it that way, it makes the world so interesting. If there wasn't anything
+ to find out, it would be dull. Even trying to find out and not finding out
+ is just as interesting as trying to find out and finding out, and I don't
+ know but more so. The secret of the water was a treasure until I GOT it;
+ then the excitement all went away, and I recognized a sense of loss.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="087.jpg (96K)" src="images/087.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By experiment I know that wood swims, and dry leaves, and feathers, and
+ plenty of other things; therefore by all that cumulative evidence you know
+ that a rock will swim; but you have to put up with simply knowing it, for
+ there isn't any way to prove it&mdash;up to now. But I shall find a way&mdash;then
+ THAT excitement will go. Such things make me sad; because by and by when I
+ have found out everything there won't be any more excitements, and I do
+ love excitements so! The other night I couldn't sleep for thinking about
+ it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="089.jpg (55K)" src="images/089.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At first I couldn't make out what I was made for, but now I think it was
+ to search out the secrets of this wonderful world and be happy and thank
+ the Giver of it all for devising it. I think there are many things to
+ learn yet&mdash;I hope so; and by economizing and not hurrying too fast I
+ think they will last weeks and weeks. I hope so. When you cast up a
+ feather it sails away on the air and goes out of sight; then you throw up
+ a clod and it doesn't. It comes down, every time. I have tried it and
+ tried it, and it is always so. I wonder why it is? Of course it DOESN'T
+ come down, but why should it SEEM to? I suppose it is an optical illusion.
+ I mean, one of them is. I don't know which one. It may be the feather, it
+ may be the clod; I can't prove which it is, I can only demonstrate that
+ one or the other is a fake, and let a person take his choice.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="091.jpg (81K)" src="images/091.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By watching, I know that the stars are not going to last. I have seen some
+ of the best ones melt and run down the sky. Since one can melt, they can
+ all melt; since they can all melt, they can all melt the same night. That
+ sorrow will come&mdash;I know it. I mean to sit up every night and look at
+ them as long as I can keep awake; and I will impress those sparkling
+ fields on my memory, so that by and by when they are taken away I can by
+ my fancy restore those lovely myriads to the black sky and make them
+ sparkle again, and double them by the blur of my tears.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="093.jpg (80K)" src="images/093.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ After the Fall
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ When I look back, the Garden is a dream to me. It was beautiful,
+ surpassingly beautiful, enchantingly beautiful; and now it is lost, and I
+ shall not see it any more.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="095.jpg (92K)" src="images/095.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The Garden is lost, but I have found HIM, and am content. He loves me as
+ well as he can; I love him with all the strength of my passionate nature,
+ and this, I think, is proper to my youth and sex. If I ask myself why I
+ love him, I find I do not know, and do not really much care to know; so I
+ suppose that this kind of love is not a product of reasoning and
+ statistics, like one's love for other reptiles and animals. I think that
+ this must be so. I love certain birds because of their song; but I do not
+ love Adam on account of his singing&mdash;no, it is not that; the more he
+ sings the more I do not get reconciled to it. Yet I ask him to sing,
+ because I wish to learn to like everything he is interested in. I am sure
+ I can learn, because at first I could not stand it, but now I can. It
+ sours the milk, but it doesn't matter; I can get used to that kind of
+ milk.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="097.jpg (74K)" src="images/097.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not on account of his brightness that I love him&mdash;no, it is not
+ that. He is not to blame for his brightness, such as it is, for he did not
+ make it himself; he is as God make him, and that is sufficient. There was
+ a wise purpose in it, THAT I know. In time it will develop, though I think
+ it will not be sudden; and besides, there is no hurry; he is well enough
+ just as he is.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not on account of his gracious and considerate ways and his delicacy
+ that I love him. No, he has lacks in this regard, but he is well enough
+ just so, and is improving.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="099.jpg (85K)" src="images/099.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not on account of his industry that I love him&mdash;no, it is not
+ that. I think he has it in him, and I do not know why he conceals it from
+ me. It is my only pain. Otherwise he is frank and open with me, now. I am
+ sure he keeps nothing from me but this. It grieves me that he should have
+ a secret from me, and sometimes it spoils my sleep, thinking of it, but I
+ will put it out of my mind; it shall not trouble my happiness, which is
+ otherwise full to overflowing.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not on account of his education that I love him&mdash;no, it is not
+ that. He is self-educated, and does really know a multitude of things, but
+ they are not so.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not on account of his chivalry that I love him&mdash;no, it is not
+ that. He told on me, but I do not blame him; it is a peculiarity of sex, I
+ think, and he did not make his sex. Of course I would not have told on
+ him, I would have perished first; but that is a peculiarity of sex, too,
+ and I do not take credit for it, for I did not make my sex.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then why is it that I love him? MERELY BECAUSE HE IS MASCULINE, I think.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="101.jpg (93K)" src="images/101.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At bottom he is good, and I love him for that, but I could love him
+ without it. If he should beat me and abuse me, I should go on loving him.
+ I know it. It is a matter of sex, I think.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He is strong and handsome, and I love him for that, and I admire him and
+ am proud of him, but I could love him without those qualities. If he were
+ plain, I should love him; if he were a wreck, I should love him; and I
+ would work for him, and slave over him, and pray for him, and watch by his
+ bedside until I died.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="103.jpg (82K)" src="images/103.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Yes, I think I love him merely because he is MINE and is MASCULINE. There
+ is no other reason, I suppose. And so I think it is as I first said: that
+ this kind of love is not a product of reasonings and statistics. It just
+ COMES&mdash;none knows whence&mdash;and cannot explain itself. And doesn't
+ need to.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is what I think. But I am only a girl, the first that has examined this
+ matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance and inexperience I have
+ not got it right.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="105.jpg (60K)" src="images/105.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ Forty Years Later
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this life
+ together&mdash;a longing which shall never perish from the earth, but
+ shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of
+ time; and it shall be called by my name.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="107.jpg (65K)" src="images/107.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I; for he
+ is strong, I am weak, I am not so necessary to him as he is to me&mdash;life
+ without him would not be life; how could I endure it? This prayer is also
+ immortal, and will not cease from being offered up while my race
+ continues. I am the first wife; and in the last wife I shall be repeated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ At Eve's Grave
+ </h2>
+ <h4>
+ ADAM: Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden.
+ </h4>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <div class="fig" style="width:80%;">
+ <img alt="109.jpg (63K)" src="images/109.jpg" width="100%" /><br />
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br /> <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eve's Diary, Complete
+by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
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+</pre>
+ </body>
+</html>
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<title>Eve's Diary, By Mark Twain</title>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg">
+
+<style type="text/css">
+ <!--
+ body {background:#faebd7; margin:20%; text-align:justify}
+ P {
+ text-indent: 1em;
+ margin-top: .75em;
+ margin-bottom: .75em; }
+ H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; }
+ HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; }
+ blockquote {font-size: 95% }
+ .figleft {float: left;}
+ .figright {float: right;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;}
+ CENTER { padding: 10px;}
+ // -->
+</style>
+
+
+</head>
+<body>
+
+<h2>EVE'S DIARY, By Mark Twain</h2>
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Eve's Diary, Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
+
+
+Title: Eve's Diary, Complete
+
+Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+Release Date: June 14, 2004 [EBook #8525]
+[Last updated: October 4, 2011]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EVE'S DIARY, COMPLETE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger and Cindy Rosenthal
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<br>
+<hr>
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+
+
+
+<center>
+<h1>EVE'S DIARY</h1>
+<br><br>
+<h2>By Mark Twain</h2>
+<br><br>
+<h3>Illustrated by Lester Ralph</h3>
+</center>
+
+<br><br><br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="cover.jpg (111K)" src="images/cover.jpg" height="954" width="638">
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<img alt="front.jpg (83K)" src="images/front.jpg" height="626" width="368">
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<img alt="title.jpg (43K)" src="images/title.jpg" height="753" width="481">
+<br><br><br><br>
+</center>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<h1>Eve's Diary</h1>
+<h3>Translated from the Original</h3>
+</center>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="003.jpg (70K)" src="images/003.jpg" height="610" width="361">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>SATURDAY.&mdash;I am almost a whole day old, now. I arrived yesterday.
+That is as it seems to me. And it must be so, for if there was
+a day-before-yesterday I was not there when it happened, or I
+should remember it. It could be, of course, that it did happen,
+and that I was not noticing. Very well; I will be very watchful now,
+and if any day-before-yesterdays happen I will make a note of it.
+It will be best to start right and not let the record get confused,
+for some instinct tells me that these details are going to be
+important to the historian some day. For I feel like an experiment,
+I feel exactly like an experiment; it would be impossible for a person
+to feel more like an experiment than I do, and so I am coming to feel
+convinced that that is what I AM&mdash;an experiment; just an experiment,
+and nothing more.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="005.jpg (62K)" src="images/005.jpg" height="615" width="366">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Then if I am an experiment, am I the whole of it? No, I think not;
+I think the rest of it is part of it. I am the main part of it,
+but I think the rest of it has its share in the matter. Is my
+position assured, or do I have to watch it and take care of it?
+The latter, perhaps. Some instinct tells me that eternal vigilance
+is the price of supremacy. [That is a good phrase, I think, for one
+so young.]</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="007.jpg (73K)" src="images/007.jpg" height="614" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Everything looks better today than it did yesterday. In the rush of
+finishing up yesterday, the mountains were left in a ragged condition,
+and some of the plains were so cluttered with rubbish and remnants
+that the aspects were quite distressing. Noble and beautiful works
+of art should not be subjected to haste; and this majestic new world
+is indeed a most noble and beautiful work. And certainly marvelously
+near to being perfect, notwithstanding the shortness of the time.
+There are too many stars in some places and not enough in others,
+but that can be remedied presently, no doubt. The moon got
+loose last night, and slid down and fell out of the
+scheme&mdash;a very great loss; it breaks my heart to think of it. There isn't
+another thing among the ornaments and decorations that is comparable
+to it for beauty and finish. It should have been fastened better.
+If we can only get it back again&mdash;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="009.jpg (61K)" src="images/009.jpg" height="621" width="370">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But of course there is no telling where it went to. And besides,
+whoever gets it will hide it; I know it because I would do it myself.
+I believe I can be honest in all other matters, but I already
+begin to realize that the core and center of my nature is love
+of the beautiful, a passion for the beautiful, and that it would
+not be safe to trust me with a moon that belonged to another person
+and that person didn't know I had it. I could give up a moon that I
+found in the daytime, because I should be afraid some one was looking;
+but if I found it in the dark, I am sure I should find some kind
+of an excuse for not saying anything about it. For I do love moons,
+they are so pretty and so romantic. I wish we had five or six;
+I would never go to bed; I should never get tired lying on the moss-bank
+and looking up at them.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="011.jpg (93K)" src="images/011.jpg" height="631" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Stars are good, too. I wish I could get some to put in my hair.
+But I suppose I never can. You would be surprised to find how far
+off they are, for they do not look it. When they first showed,
+last night, I tried to knock some down with a pole, but it didn't reach,
+which astonished me; then I tried clods till I was all tired out,
+but I never got one. It was because I am left-handed and cannot
+throw good. Even when I aimed at the one I wasn't after I
+couldn't hit the other one, though I did make some close shots,
+for I saw the black blot of the clod sail right into the midst of
+the golden clusters forty or fifty times, just barely missing them,
+and if I could have held out a little longer maybe I could have
+got one.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="013.jpg (83K)" src="images/013.jpg" height="623" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>So I cried a little, which was natural, I suppose, for one of my age,
+and after I was rested I got a basket and started for a place on the
+extreme rim of the circle, where the stars were close to the ground
+and I could get them with my hands, which would be better, anyway,
+because I could gather them tenderly then, and not break them.
+But it was farther than I thought, and at last I had to give it up;
+I was so tired I couldn't drag my feet another step; and besides,
+they were sore and hurt me very much.</p>
+
+<p>I couldn't get back home; it was too far and turning cold;
+but I found some tigers and nestled in among them and was most
+adorably comfortable, and their breath was sweet and pleasant,
+because they live on strawberries. I had never seen a tiger before,
+but I knew them in a minute by the stripes. If I could have one
+of those skins, it would make a lovely gown.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="015.jpg (86K)" src="images/015.jpg" height="626" width="375">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Today I am getting better ideas about distances. I was so eager
+to get hold of every pretty thing that I giddily grabbed for it,
+sometimes when it was too far off, and sometimes when it was but
+six inches away but seemed a foot&mdash;alas, with thorns between!
+I learned a lesson; also I made an axiom, all out of my own
+head&mdash;my very first one; THE SCRATCHED EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE THORN.
+I think it is a very good one for one so young.</p>
+
+<p>I followed the other Experiment around, yesterday afternoon,
+at a distance, to see what it might be for, if I could. But I was
+not able to make [it] out. I think it is a man. I had never seen a man,
+but it looked like one, and I feel sure that that is what it is.
+I realize that I feel more curiosity about it than about any
+of the other reptiles. If it is a reptile, and I suppose it is;
+for it has frowzy hair and blue eyes, and looks like a reptile.
+It has no hips; it tapers like a carrot; when it stands, it spreads
+itself apart like a derrick; so I think it is a reptile, though it may
+be architecture.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="017.jpg (76K)" src="images/017.jpg" height="629" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I was afraid of it at first, and started to run every time it
+turned around, for I thought it was going to chase me; but by
+and by I found it was only trying to get away, so after that I
+was not timid any more, but tracked it along, several hours,
+about twenty yards behind, which made it nervous and unhappy.
+At last it was a good deal worried, and climbed a tree. I waited
+a good while, then gave it up and went home.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="019.jpg (79K)" src="images/019.jpg" height="618" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Today the same thing over. I've got it up the tree again.</p>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<p>SUNDAY.&mdash;It is up there yet. Resting, apparently. But that is
+a subterfuge: Sunday isn't the day of rest; Saturday is appointed
+for that. It looks to me like a creature that is more interested
+in resting than in anything else. It would tire me to rest so much.
+It tires me just to sit around and watch the tree. I do wonder
+what it is for; I never see it do anything.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="021.jpg (81K)" src="images/021.jpg" height="620" width="374">
+<br><br>
+</center>
+
+<p>They returned the moon last night, and I was SO happy! I think
+it is very honest of them. It slid down and fell off again,
+but I was not distressed; there is no need to worry when one has
+that kind of neighbors; they will fetch it back. I wish I could
+do something to show my appreciation. I would like to send them
+some stars, for we have more than we can use. I mean I, not we,
+for I can see that the reptile cares nothing for such things.</p>
+
+<p>It has low tastes, and is not kind. When I went there yesterday
+evening in the gloaming it had crept down and was trying to catch
+the little speckled fishes that play in the pool, and I had
+to clod it to make it go up the tree again and let them alone.
+I wonder if THAT is what it is for? Hasn't it any heart?
+Hasn't it any compassion for those little creature? Can it be
+that it was designed and manufactured for such ungentle work?
+It has the look of it. One of the clods took it back of the ear,
+and it used language. It gave me a thrill, for it was the first time I
+had ever heard speech, except my own. I did not understand the words,
+but they seemed expressive.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="023.jpg (77K)" src="images/023.jpg" height="616" width="368">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>When I found it could talk I felt a new interest in it, for I
+love to talk; I talk, all day, and in my sleep, too, and I am
+very interesting, but if I had another to talk to I could be twice
+as interesting, and would never stop, if desired.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="025.jpg (70K)" src="images/025.jpg" height="616" width="368">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>If this reptile is a man, it isn't an IT, is it? That wouldn't
+be grammatical, would it? I think it would be HE. I think so.
+In that case one would parse it thus: nominative, HE; dative, HIM;
+possessive, HIS'N. Well, I will consider it a man and call it he
+until it turns out to be something else. This will be handier
+than having so many uncertainties.</p>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+
+<p>NEXT WEEK SUNDAY.&mdash;All the week I tagged around after him and tried
+to get acquainted. I had to do the talking, because he was shy,
+but I didn't mind it. He seemed pleased to have me around, and I
+used the sociable "we" a good deal, because it seemed to flatter him
+to be included.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="027.jpg (96K)" src="images/027.jpg" height="631" width="379">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>WEDNESDAY.&mdash;We are getting along very well indeed, now, and getting
+better and better acquainted. He does not try to avoid me any more,
+which is a good sign, and shows that he likes to have me with him.
+That pleases me, and I study to be useful to him in every way I can,
+so as to increase his regard.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="029.jpg (75K)" src="images/029.jpg" height="625" width="373">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>During the last day or two I
+have taken all the work of naming things off his hands, and this
+has been a great relief to him, for he has no gift in that line,
+and is evidently very grateful. He can't think of a rational name
+to save him, but I do not let him see that I am aware of his defect.
+Whenever a new creature comes along I name it before he has time
+to expose himself by an awkward silence. In this way I have
+saved him many embarrassments. I have no defect like this.
+The minute I set eyes on an animal I know what it is. I don't
+have to reflect a moment; the right name comes out instantly,
+just as if it were an inspiration, as no doubt it is, for I am
+sure it wasn't in me half a minute before. I seem to know just
+by the shape of the creature and the way it acts what animal
+it is.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="031.jpg (62K)" src="images/031.jpg" height="626" width="377">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>When the dodo came along he thought it was a wildcat&mdash;I saw it
+in his eye. But I saved him. And I was careful not to do it
+in a way that could hurt his pride. I just spoke up in a quite
+natural way of pleasing surprise, and not as if I was dreaming
+of conveying information, and said, "Well, I do declare, if there
+isn't the dodo!" I explained&mdash;without seeming to be
+explaining&mdash;how I know it for a dodo, and although I thought maybe he was
+a little piqued that I knew the creature when he didn't, it was
+quite evident that he admired me. That was very agreeable, and I
+thought of it more than once with gratification before I slept.
+How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have
+earned it!</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="033.jpg (76K)" src="images/033.jpg" height="618" width="372">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+<p>THURSDAY.&mdash;my first sorrow. Yesterday he avoided me and seemed
+to wish I would not talk to him. I could not believe it,
+and thought there was some mistake, for I loved to be with him,
+and loved to hear him talk, and so how could it be that he could
+feel unkind toward me when I had not done anything? But at last it
+seemed true, so I went away and sat lonely in the place where I first
+saw him the morning that we were made and I did not know what he
+was and was indifferent about him; but now it was a mournful place,
+and every little thing spoke of him, and my heart was very sore.
+I did not know why very clearly, for it was a new feeling; I had
+not experienced it before, and it was all a mystery, and I could
+not make it out.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="035.jpg (90K)" src="images/035.jpg" height="620" width="373">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But when night came I could not bear the lonesomeness, and went
+to the new shelter which he has built, to ask him what I had done
+that was wrong and how I could mend it and get back his kindness again;
+but he put me out in the rain, and it was my first sorrow.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="037.jpg (82K)" src="images/037.jpg" height="623" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>SUNDAY.&mdash;It is pleasant again, now, and I am happy; but those were
+heavy days; I do not think of them when I can help it.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="039.jpg (83K)" src="images/039.jpg" height="627" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I tried to get him some of those apples, but I cannot learn to
+throw straight. I failed, but I think the good intention pleased him.
+They are forbidden, and he says I shall come to harm; but so I
+come to harm through pleasing him, why shall I care for that harm?</p>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<p>MONDAY.&mdash;This morning I told him my name, hoping it would interest him.
+But he did not care for it. It is strange. If he should tell me
+his name, I would care. I think it would be pleasanter in my ears
+than any other sound.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="041.jpg (81K)" src="images/041.jpg" height="624" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>He talks very little. Perhaps it is because he is not bright,
+and is sensitive about it and wishes to conceal it. It is
+such a pity that he should feel so, for brightness is nothing;
+it is in the heart that the values lie. I wish I could make him
+understand that a loving good heart is riches, and riches enough,
+and that without it intellect is poverty.</p>
+
+<p>Although he talks so little, he has quite a considerable
+vocabulary. This morning he used a surprisingly good word.
+He evidently recognized, himself, that it was a good one, for he
+worked in in twice afterward, casually. It was good casual art,
+still it showed that he possesses a certain quality of perception.
+Without a doubt that seed can be made to grow, if cultivated.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="043.jpg (90K)" src="images/043.jpg" height="628" width="378">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Where did he get that word? I do not think I have ever used it.</p>
+
+<p>No, he took no interest in my name. I tried to hide my disappointment,
+but I suppose I did not succeed. I went away and sat on the
+moss-bank with my feet in the water. It is where I go when I hunger
+for companionship, some one to look at, some one to talk to.
+It is not enough&mdash;that lovely white body painted there in the
+pool&mdash;but it is something, and something is better than utter loneliness.
+It talks when I talk; it is sad when I am sad; it comforts me with
+its sympathy; it says, "Do not be downhearted, you poor friendless girl;
+I will be your friend." It IS a good friend to me, and my only one;
+it is my sister.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="045.jpg (89K)" src="images/045.jpg" height="628" width="376">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>That first time that she forsook me! ah, I shall never forget
+that&mdash;never, never. My heart was lead in my body! I said, "She was all
+I had, and now she is gone!" In my despair I said, "Break, my heart;
+I cannot bear my life any more!" and hid my face in my hands,
+and there was no solace for me. And when I took them away,
+after a little, there she was again, white and shining and beautiful,
+and I sprang into her arms!</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="047.jpg (77K)" src="images/047.jpg" height="616" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>That was perfect happiness; I had known happiness before, but it was
+not like this, which was ecstasy. I never doubted her afterward.
+Sometimes she stayed away&mdash;maybe an hour, maybe almost the
+whole day, but I waited and did not doubt; I said, "She is busy,
+or she is gone on a journey, but she will come." And it was so:
+she always did. At night she would not come if it was dark, for she
+was a timid little thing; but if there was a moon she would come.
+I am not afraid of the dark, but she is younger than I am; she was
+born after I was. Many and many are the visits I have paid her;
+she is my comfort and my refuge when my life is hard&mdash;and it is
+mainly that.</p>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<p>TUESDAY.&mdash;All the morning I was at work improving the estate;
+and I purposely kept away from him in the hope that he would get
+lonely and come. But he did not.</p>
+
+<p>At noon I stopped for the day and took my recreation by flitting all
+about with the bees and the butterflies and reveling in the flowers,
+those beautiful creatures that catch the smile of God out of the
+sky and preserve it! I gathered them, and made them into wreaths
+and garlands and clothed myself in them while I ate my
+luncheon&mdash;apples, of course; then I sat in the shade and wished and waited.
+But he did not come.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="049.jpg (92K)" src="images/049.jpg" height="621" width="372">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But no matter. Nothing would have come of it, for he does not
+care for flowers. He called them rubbish, and cannot tell one
+from another, and thinks it is superior to feel like that. He does
+not care for me, he does not care for flowers, he does not care
+for the painted sky at eventide&mdash;is there anything he does care for,
+except building shacks to coop himself up in from the good clean rain,
+and thumping the melons, and sampling the grapes, and fingering
+the fruit on the trees, to see how those properties are coming along?</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="051.jpg (86K)" src="images/051.jpg" height="629" width="373">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I laid a dry stick on the ground and tried to bore a hole in it
+with another one, in order to carry out a scheme that I had,
+and soon I got an awful fright. A thin, transparent bluish film
+rose out of the hole, and I dropped everything and ran! I thought
+it was a spirit, and I WAS so frightened! But I looked back, and it
+was not coming; so I leaned against a rock and rested and panted,
+and let my limbs go on trembling until they got steady again;
+then I crept warily back, alert, watching, and ready to fly if there
+was occasion; and when I was come near, I parted the branches
+of a rose-bush and peeped through&mdash;wishing the man was about,
+I was looking so cunning and pretty&mdash;but the sprite was gone.
+I went there, and there was a pinch of delicate pink dust in the hole.
+I put my finger in, to feel it, and said OUCH! and took it
+out again. It was a cruel pain. I put my finger in my mouth;
+and by standing first on one foot and then the other, and grunting,
+I presently eased my misery; then I was full of interest, and began
+to examine.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="053.jpg (75K)" src="images/053.jpg" height="616" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I was curious to know what the pink dust was. Suddenly the name of it
+occurred to me, though I had never heard of it before. It was FIRE!
+I was as certain of it as a person could be of anything in the world.
+So without hesitation I named it that&mdash;fire.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="055.jpg (77K)" src="images/055.jpg" height="620" width="368">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>I had created something that didn't exist before; I had added
+a new thing to the world's uncountable properties; I realized this,
+and was proud of my achievement, and was going to run and find him
+and tell him about it, thinking to raise myself in his
+esteem&mdash;but I reflected, and did not do it. No&mdash;he would not care for it.
+He would ask what it was good for, and what could I answer? for if it
+was not GOOD for something, but only beautiful, merely beautiful&mdash;</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="057.jpg (72K)" src="images/057.jpg" height="621" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>So I sighed, and did not go. For it wasn't good for anything;
+it could not build a shack, it could not improve melons, it could
+not hurry a fruit crop; it was useless, it was a foolishness
+and a vanity; he would despise it and say cutting words.
+But to me it was not despicable; I said, "Oh, you fire, I love you,
+you dainty pink creature, for you are BEAUTIFUL&mdash;and that is enough!"
+and was going to gather it to my breast. But refrained.
+Then I made another maxim out of my head, though it was so nearly
+like the first one that I was afraid it was only a plagiarism:
+"THE BURNT EXPERIMENT SHUNS THE FIRE."</p>
+
+<p>I wrought again; and when I had made a good deal of fire-dust I emptied
+it into a handful of dry brown grass, intending to carry it home
+and keep it always and play with it; but the wind struck it and it
+sprayed up and spat out at me fiercely, and I dropped it and ran.
+When I looked back the blue spirit was towering up and stretching
+and rolling away like a cloud, and instantly I thought of the name
+of it&mdash;SMOKE!&mdash;though, upon my word, I had never heard of smoke before.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="059.jpg (82K)" src="images/059.jpg" height="623" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Soon brilliant yellow and red flares shot up through the smoke,
+and I named them in an instant&mdash;FLAMES&mdash;and I was right, too,
+though these were the very first flames that had ever been
+in the world. They climbed the trees, then flashed splendidly
+in and out of the vast and increasing volume of tumbling smoke,
+and I had to clap my hands and laugh and dance in my rapture,
+it was so new and strange and so wonderful and so beautiful!</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="061.jpg (79K)" src="images/061.jpg" height="621" width="366">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>He came running, and stopped and gazed, and said not a word for
+many minutes. Then he asked what it was. Ah, it was too bad that he
+should ask such a direct question. I had to answer it, of course,
+and I did. I said it was fire. If it annoyed him that I should know
+and he must ask; that was not my fault; I had no desire to annoy him.
+After a pause he asked:</p>
+
+<p>"How did it come?"</p>
+
+<p>Another direct question, and it also had to have a direct answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I made it."</p>
+
+<p>The fire was traveling farther and farther off. He went to the edge
+of the burned place and stood looking down, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"What are these?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fire-coals."</p>
+
+<p>He picked up one to examine it, but changed his mind and put it
+down again. Then he went away. NOTHING interests him.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="063.jpg (72K)" src="images/063.jpg" height="621" width="367">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But I was interested. There were ashes, gray and soft and delicate
+and pretty&mdash;I knew what they were at once. And the embers;
+I knew the embers, too. I found my apples, and raked them out,
+and was glad; for I am very young and my appetite is active.
+But I was disappointed; they were all burst open and spoiled.
+Spoiled apparently; but it was not so; they were better than raw ones.
+Fire is beautiful; some day it will be useful, I think.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="065.jpg (82K)" src="images/065.jpg" height="606" width="374">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>FRIDAY.&mdash;I saw him again, for a moment, last Monday at nightfall,
+but only for a moment. I was hoping he would praise me for trying
+to improve the estate, for I had meant well and had worked hard.
+But he was not pleased, and turned away and left me. He was also
+displeased on another account: I tried once more to persuade him
+to stop going over the Falls. That was because the fire had revealed
+to me a new passion&mdash;quite new, and distinctly different from love,
+grief, and those others which I had already discovered&mdash;FEAR. And it
+is horrible!&mdash;I wish I had never discovered it; it gives me dark moments,
+it spoils my happiness, it makes me shiver and tremble and shudder.
+But I could not persuade him, for he has not discovered fear yet,
+and so he could not understand me.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="067.jpg (94K)" src="images/067.jpg" height="625" width="372">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+
+<h2><i>
+Extract from Adam's Diary</i></h2>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="069.jpg (65K)" src="images/069.jpg" height="611" width="365">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p><i>
+Perhaps I ought to remember that she is very young, a mere girl and
+make allowances. She is all interest, eagerness, vivacity, the world
+is to her a charm, a wonder, a mystery, a joy; she can't speak for
+delight when she finds a new flower, she must pet it and caress it
+and smell it and talk to it, and pour out endearing names upon it.
+And she is color-mad: brown rocks, yellow sand, gray moss, green foliage,
+blue sky; the pearl of the dawn, the purple shadows on the mountains,
+the golden islands floating in crimson seas at sunset, the pallid moon
+sailing through the shredded cloud-rack, the star-jewels glittering
+in the wastes of space&mdash;none of them is of any practical value,
+so far as I can see, but because they have color and majesty,
+that is enough for her, and she loses her mind over them.
+If she could quiet down and keep still a couple minutes at a time,
+it would be a reposeful spectacle. In that case I think I could
+enjoy looking at her; indeed I am sure I could, for I am coming
+to realize that she is a quite remarkably comely
+creature&mdash;lithe, slender, trim, rounded, shapely, nimble, graceful; and once
+when she was standing marble-white and sun-drenched on a boulder,
+with her young head tilted back and her hand shading her eyes,
+watching the flight of a bird in the sky, I recognized that she
+was beautiful.</i></p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="071.jpg (74K)" src="images/071.jpg" height="613" width="377">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p><i>MONDAY NOON.&mdash;If there is anything on the planet that she is not
+interested in it is not in my list. There are animals that I am
+indifferent to, but it is not so with her. She has no discrimination,
+she takes to all of them, she thinks they are all treasures,
+every new one is welcome.</i></p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="073.jpg (69K)" src="images/073.jpg" height="613" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p><i>When the mighty brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regarded
+it as an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good
+sample of the lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things.
+She wanted to domesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of the
+homestead and move out. She believed it could be tamed by kind
+treatment and would be a good pet; I said a pet twenty-one feet
+high and eighty-four feet long would be no proper thing to have
+about the place, because, even with the best intentions and without
+meaning any harm, it could sit down on the house and mash it,
+for any one could see by the look of its eye that it was absent-minded.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Still, her heart was set upon having that monster, and she
+couldn't give it up. She thought we could start a dairy with it,
+and wanted me to help milk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky.
+The sex wasn't right, and we hadn't any ladder anyway. Then she
+wanted to ride it, and look at the scenery. Thirty or forty feet
+of its tail was lying on the ground, like a fallen tree, and she
+thought she could climb it, but she was mistaken; when she got
+to the steep place it was too slick and down she came, and would
+have hurt herself but for me.</i></p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="075.jpg (72K)" src="images/075.jpg" height="611" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p><i>Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but demonstration;
+untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have them.
+It is the right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the
+influence of it; if I were with her more I think I should take it
+up myself. Well, she had one theory remaining about this colossus:
+she thought that if we could tame it and make him friendly we could
+stand in the river and use him for a bridge. It turned out that he
+was already plenty tame enough&mdash;at least as far as she was
+concerned&mdash;so she tried her theory, but it failed: every time she got him
+properly placed in the river and went ashore to cross over him,
+he came out and followed her around like a pet mountain. Like the
+other animals. They all do that.</i></p>
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="077.jpg (70K)" src="images/077.jpg" height="619" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+<p>
+Tuesday&mdash;Wednesday&mdash;Thursday&mdash;and today: all without
+seeing him. It is a long time to be alone; still, it is better
+to be alone than unwelcome.</p>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+
+<p>FRIDAY&mdash;I HAD to have company&mdash;I was made for it, I think&mdash;so I made
+friends with the animals. They are just charming, and they have
+the kindest disposition and the politest ways; they never look sour,
+they never let you feel that you are intruding, they smile at you
+and wag their tail, if they've got one, and they are always ready
+for a romp or an excursion or anything you want to propose.
+I think they are perfect gentlemen. All these days we have had such
+good times, and it hasn't been lonesome for me, ever.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="079.jpg (85K)" src="images/079.jpg" height="614" width="366">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Lonesome! No,
+I should say not. Why, there's always a swarm of them
+around&mdash;sometimes as much as four or five acres&mdash;you can't count them;
+and when you stand on a rock in the midst and look out over the
+furry expanse it is so mottled and splashed and gay with color
+and frisking sheen and sun-flash, and so rippled with stripes,
+that you might think it was a lake, only you know it isn't;
+and there's storms of sociable birds, and hurricanes of whirring wings;
+and when the sun strikes all that feathery commotion, you have a blazing
+up of all the colors you can think of, enough to put your eyes out.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="081.jpg (80K)" src="images/081.jpg" height="623" width="369">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>We have made long excursions, and I have seen a great deal of the world;
+almost all of it, I think; and so I am the first
+traveler, and the only one. When we are on the march, it is an imposing
+sight&mdash;there's nothing like it anywhere. For comfort I ride a tiger
+or a leopard, because it is soft and has a round back that fits me,
+and because they are such pretty animals; but for long distance
+or for scenery I ride the elephant. He hoists me up with his trunk,
+but I can get off myself; when we are ready to camp, he sits and I
+slide down the back way.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="083.jpg (89K)" src="images/083.jpg" height="610" width="371">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The birds and animals are all friendly to each other, and there
+are no disputes about anything. They all talk, and they all talk
+to me, but it must be a foreign language, for I cannot make out
+a word they say; yet they often understand me when I talk back,
+particularly the dog and the elephant. It makes me ashamed.
+It shows that they are brighter than I am, for I want to be the
+principal Experiment myself&mdash;and I intend to be, too.</p>
+
+<p>I have learned a number of things, and am educated, now, but I
+wasn't at first. I was ignorant at first. At first it used to vex
+me because, with all my watching, I was never smart enough to be
+around when the water was running uphill; but now I do not mind it.
+I have experimented and experimented until now I know it never
+does run uphill, except in the dark. I know it does in the dark,
+because the pool never goes dry, which it would, of course,
+if the water didn't come back in the night. It is best to prove
+things by actual experiment; then you KNOW; whereas if you depend
+on guessing and supposing and conjecturing, you never get educated.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="085.jpg (95K)" src="images/085.jpg" height="631" width="376">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Some things you CAN'T find out; but you will never know you can't
+by guessing and supposing: no, you have to be patient and go on
+experimenting until you find out that you can't find out. And it is
+delightful to have it that way, it makes the world so interesting.
+If there wasn't anything to find out, it would be dull. Even trying
+to find out and not finding out is just as interesting as trying
+to find out and finding out, and I don't know but more so.
+The secret of the water was a treasure until I GOT it; then the
+excitement all went away, and I recognized a sense of loss.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="087.jpg (96K)" src="images/087.jpg" height="625" width="368">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>By experiment I know that wood swims, and dry leaves, and feathers,
+and plenty of other things; therefore by all that cumulative evidence
+you know that a rock will swim; but you have to put up with simply
+knowing it, for there isn't any way to prove it&mdash;up to now.
+But I shall find a way&mdash;then THAT excitement will go. Such things
+make me sad; because by and by when I have found out everything
+there won't be any more excitements, and I do love excitements so!
+The other night I couldn't sleep for thinking about it.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="089.jpg (55K)" src="images/089.jpg" height="612" width="364">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>At first I couldn't make out what I was made for, but now I think it
+was to search out the secrets of this wonderful world and be happy
+and thank the Giver of it all for devising it. I think there are many
+things to learn yet&mdash;I hope so; and by economizing and not hurrying
+too fast I think they will last weeks and weeks. I hope so. When you
+cast up a feather it sails away on the air and goes out of sight;
+then you throw up a clod and it doesn't. It comes down, every time.
+I have tried it and tried it, and it is always so. I wonder why
+it is? Of course it DOESN'T come down, but why should it SEEM to?
+I suppose it is an optical illusion. I mean, one of them is.
+I don't know which one. It may be the feather, it may be the clod;
+I can't prove which it is, I can only demonstrate that one or the other
+is a fake, and let a person take his choice.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="091.jpg (81K)" src="images/091.jpg" height="606" width="357">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>By watching, I know that the stars are not going to last.
+I have seen some of the best ones melt and run down the sky.
+Since one can melt, they can all melt; since they can all melt,
+they can all melt the same night. That sorrow will come&mdash;I know it.
+I mean to sit up every night and look at them as long as I can
+keep awake; and I will impress those sparkling fields on my memory,
+so that by and by when they are taken away I can by my fancy restore
+those lovely myriads to the black sky and make them sparkle again,
+and double them by the blur of my tears.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="093.jpg (80K)" src="images/093.jpg" height="624" width="365">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<h2>
+After the Fall</h2>
+
+<p>
+When I look back, the Garden is a dream to me. It was beautiful,
+surpassingly beautiful, enchantingly beautiful; and now it is lost,
+and I shall not see it any more.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="095.jpg (92K)" src="images/095.jpg" height="625" width="373">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>The Garden is lost, but I have found HIM, and am content.
+He loves me as well as he can; I love him with all the strength
+of my passionate nature, and this, I think, is proper to my youth
+and sex. If I ask myself why I love him, I find I do not know,
+and do not really much care to know; so I suppose that this kind
+of love is not a product of reasoning and statistics, like one's
+love for other reptiles and animals. I think that this must be so.
+I love certain birds because of their song; but I do not love Adam
+on account of his singing&mdash;no, it is not that; the more he sings
+the more I do not get reconciled to it. Yet I ask him to sing,
+because I wish to learn to like everything he is interested in.
+I am sure I can learn, because at first I could not stand it,
+but now I can. It sours the milk, but it doesn't matter; I can get
+used to that kind of milk.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="097.jpg (74K)" src="images/097.jpg" height="615" width="363">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is not on account of his brightness that I love him&mdash;no, it is
+not that. He is not to blame for his brightness, such as it is,
+for he did not make it himself; he is as God make him, and that
+is sufficient. There was a wise purpose in it, THAT I know.
+In time it will develop, though I think it will not be sudden;
+and besides, there is no hurry; he is well enough just as he is.</p>
+
+<p>It is not on account of his gracious and considerate ways and
+his delicacy that I love him. No, he has lacks in this regard,
+but he is well enough just so, and is improving.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="099.jpg (85K)" src="images/099.jpg" height="613" width="367">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>It is not on account of his industry that I love him&mdash;no, it is
+not that. I think he has it in him, and I do not know why he
+conceals it from me. It is my only pain. Otherwise he is frank
+and open with me, now. I am sure he keeps nothing from me but this.
+It grieves me that he should have a secret from me, and sometimes it
+spoils my sleep, thinking of it, but I will put it out of my mind;
+it shall not trouble my happiness, which is otherwise full
+to overflowing.</p>
+
+<p>It is not on account of his education that I love him&mdash;no, it is
+not that. He is self-educated, and does really know a multitude
+of things, but they are not so.</p>
+
+<p>It is not on account of his chivalry that I love him&mdash;no, it is not that.
+He told on me, but I do not blame him; it is a peculiarity of sex,
+I think, and he did not make his sex. Of course I would not have
+told on him, I would have perished first; but that is a peculiarity
+of sex, too, and I do not take credit for it, for I did not make
+my sex.</p>
+
+<p>Then why is it that I love him? MERELY BECAUSE HE IS MASCULINE,
+I think.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="101.jpg (93K)" src="images/101.jpg" height="618" width="368">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>At bottom he is good, and I love him for that, but I could love
+him without it. If he should beat me and abuse me, I should go
+on loving him. I know it. It is a matter of sex, I think.</p>
+
+<p>He is strong and handsome, and I love him for that, and I admire him
+and am proud of him, but I could love him without those qualities.
+If he were plain, I should love him; if he were a wreck, I should
+love him; and I would work for him, and slave over him, and pray
+for him, and watch by his bedside until I died.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="103.jpg (82K)" src="images/103.jpg" height="613" width="363">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>Yes, I think I love him merely because he is MINE and is MASCULINE.
+There is no other reason, I suppose. And so I think it is as I
+first said: that this kind of love is not a product of reasonings
+and statistics. It just COMES&mdash;none knows whence&mdash;and cannot
+explain itself. And doesn't need to.</p>
+
+<p>It is what I think. But I am only a girl, the first that has
+examined this matter, and it may turn out that in my ignorance
+and inexperience I have not got it right.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="105.jpg (60K)" src="images/105.jpg" height="605" width="364">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+
+<h2>Forty Years Later</h2>
+
+<p>It is my prayer, it is my longing, that we may pass from this
+life together&mdash;a longing which shall never perish from the earth,
+but shall have place in the heart of every wife that loves,
+until the end of time; and it shall be called by my name.</p>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="107.jpg (65K)" src="images/107.jpg" height="614" width="361">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<p>But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I;
+for he is strong, I am weak, I am not so necessary to him as he is
+to me&mdash;life without him would not be life; how could I endure it?
+This prayer is also immortal, and will not cease from being offered up
+while my race continues. I am the first wife; and in the last wife I
+shall be repeated.</p>
+
+<br><br><br><br><br><br>
+
+<h2>
+At Eve's Grave</h2>
+
+<h4>
+ADAM: Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden.</h4>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="109.jpg (63K)" src="images/109.jpg" height="611" width="360">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Eve's Diary, Complete
+by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
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